Harry Potter and Another Life
by Osprey Trapper
Summary: Harry Potter gets a fresh chance at a another life in an alternate dimension, as a Hogwarts student. He is not the BWL. Time travel, cross dimensional. Alternate universe, Time Travel.
1. Prologue

A small flash of yellow was all the warning Albus Dumbledore had before flinching at the horrible cracking sound coming from the end of his study, only to turn in amusement as he recognised the bright gold snidget squished tightly against the glass. Wearily, he lifted himself up and hobbled toward the window, laughing as the tiny bird barely managed to hold onto the small ledge. A small gesture and the heavy mahogany frame swung inward, the disorientated bird practically falling in with it.

"Ah Harry, what can I do for you today?" Albus asked curiously, watching as the tiny bird morphed into a lightly toned raven hared man.

"Just dropping by Albus, don't worry nothing's wrong...yet." Harry mumbled, rubbing his sore nose and grumbling about having closed windows on a perfect summer day.

"Indeed? Do you want some tea before you raid my library?" Albus offered gently.

Harry chuckled before adding

" No thank you, I was lucky to escape with only two breakfasts and three cups of coffee this morning before Master Dobby released me"

"I see. Well don't let me stop you Harry, Merlin knows how you ended up so intelligent with the bashing your head receives."

A small quirk of the lips was all the response Dumbledore saw before Harry dashed out of the study towards the Dumbledore Library. A far-cry from the Hogswarts library or Ministry archives, this particular library only consisted of eight book cases, full of dusty old tomes. Then again, most of these books were extremely rare – some even the only copy in existence. Hermione would have loved it here.

Pulling a leather-bound journal from the shelves, Harry flopped down across one of the arm chairs and began to read. That was almost all he did now; read, brood, read, brood....until Albus or Dobby snapped him out of it. He should have been happy, Voldemort was dead. Definitely and utterly this time. He wasn't though. Hermione moved to France not a week after her 18th birthday, and Harry couldn't honestly remember the last time he talked to her face to face. Ron, Ron was a different story entirely. He was still the hot-headed, obnoxious red-haired wizard since he was eleven, and unfortunately as Harry grew up, Ron did not.

"Given up reading already Harry?" How Albus always knew he would never understand, perhaps he had a bit of seer blood in him. It would explain some of the man's quirkiness.

Harry sighed, and threw a scathing glare that would put Snape's to shame at the chuckling old wizard.

"Just thinking," he snapped back.

Albus's cheerful demeanour dripped off his face, uncovering a solemn face and dull blue eyes.

"You can't keep going on like this Harry, it isn't healthy for you." The only response was the soft turning of a page, and a soft mumble of 'I know'. Sirius' death was the catalyst, and it went downhill from there. It almost made him briefly wonder if Harry had accidentally been dosed with a bad batch of Felix Felicis as a baby.

Remus had buried his grief in Order work, and ultimately led to his death. He was assigned to try and obtain if not the aid, the neautrality of Bulgarian werewolf packs. Voldemort had bought their allegiance three weeks earlier.

Voldemort may have been overly cautious of attacking Harry Potter directly after the prophecy was destroyed, but that didn't stop the mental torture though. Remus's head delivered in a hessian sack carried by four owls was by far the most damaging. Harry begged and pleaded for Alastor Moody to obliviate *that* particular memory after without sleeping for nearly a week.

Hermione's parents were brutally murdered, the wards unable to withstand a direct assault. The order guard was Molly Weasley, who never stood a chance against a death eater in combat. Hermione never actually said it to Harry's face, but he knew that she blamed him for the death of her parents, and their fractured relationship had not lasted long after that day. Ron had no such qualms, and almost solely blamed Harry for his mother's death, despite Molly having been an order volunteer and 'blood traitor' herself. He also blamed Harry for Hermione moving to France over a decade earlier.

A soft chirping in the corner alerted both wizards to Fawkes presence, and despite nearing another burning day stood tall perched on the back of a desk chair. A brief flap of wings and Fawkes glided onto Albus' shoulder, head butting him gently. Harry was bemused as he watched the normally unflappable wizard gaze at Fawkes with nothing other than stupefied shock. It was only after Albus' eye's began twinkling and he gazed shrewdly at Harry did he begin to worry.

"Fawkes tells me something interesting Harry." Bushy eyebrows crinkling as his face scrunched up in thought.

"Oh?" was the ambiguous reply.

"Yes. It seems that Fawkes here thinks he can help you get out of this rut you have been in."

Harry replied, slightly confused and wary "I really don't see how."

"Harry, I am an old man now. I loved teaching, and I loved being Headmaster, and only really held political roles out of necessity. The ministry practically 'forced' retirement on me, and I was quite upset at the time. My bones grow weary already Harry, and one day I will die. The Prophet still writes scathing articles about you, and the Ministry is deathly afraid you'll use your standing against them. The problem is Harry, once you keep telling lies for long enough, no matter how ridiculous or untrue, people will eventually begin to believe it." Albus commented.

"I hardly see how what those Ministry idiots have to do with Fawkes. They are looking for a scapegoat Albus, and seeing as they no longer need a hero I am at the top of a remarkably short list. You and I both know that they deliberately leaked the prophecy last year to start a new campaign against me about how I was 'too slow' in stopping Voldemort, and that many deaths were my fault because of it. I just don't care anymore Albus." The barest hint of anger in Harry's eyes belied his true thoughts on the Ministry, but Dumbledore knew better than to tickle that particular sleeping dragon.

Albus began slowly, as if afraid of Harry's temper being directed at him and began his explanation. "Yes I know that, in fact I wouldn't be surprised if our beloved Ronald Weasley was the 'reliable' source. My point is Harry, a decade ago when Fudge tried to silence you and take over the school you stood up and fought all the way to the end. Fawkes tells me, and I quite agree, that the reason you don't bother with the Ministry now is because you simply don't care anymore. He also says there are opportunities for you to heal and move on if you know where to look."

Harry chuckled darkly and stared at Fawkes as if challenging him.

"And how," he drawled "would your overgrown turkey manage to do that?"

A ruffle of feathers and a sharp trill was the only response before Fawkes turned to Albus. It was difficult to follow the largely one sided conversation, but Harry could pick out some of the emotions filtering across his former Headmaster's face. Shock, amazement followed by sadness and a dash of fear, before his stance filled with determination as he threw a few measuring glances Harry's way.

"Ah, it seems Fawkes isn't too sure if it will work fully, given that you are tainted with dark magic – but he says it would be like overlaying a template of his soul or mind over yours to heal the damage. I don't blame you for having to do what you did Harry, in fact my inaction probably forced your hand into dabbling into dark magic and your rather, ahh, volatile methods with regard to death eaters but I wish it wasn't the case."

A grim smirk was the only response to the comment about the slain death eaters.

"I don't care Albus; let your turkey do whatever he wants – not like I could stop him anyway. If it doesn't work it isn't like I could end up worse."

Almost as though hit by a cheering charm, Albus bounced up from his chair and said,

"Very well, let's be off!"

"What?! Now? What will happen, how? Where?" Harry blurted out each question turning an accusing eye to Fawkes.

"Ah, in my old office my boy. Fawkes perch is there and Poppy too – just in case. The students won't return for another two months anyway." How Albus managed to stay so cheerful while commenting on grim possibility that such an evil woman would lock him up for even sneezing was a mystery to Harry.

A gnarled hand landed on Harry's shoulder, and with a flash of fire the world spun until the familiar surroundings of the Great Hall came into focus.

There was no warning, just a fierce stinging across the back of Harry's neck before he dropped to his knees. He saw Albus frown in worry as he started at his protégé of ten years with blood dripping down his back. Fawkes trilled smugly before flying into the back of Harry's head while he was still dazed forcing him to all fours. Albus, confused about exactly Fawkes was doing but trusting his familiar took a few steps back. A brief shuffle of feathers and Fawkes unsteadily wobbled to reach Harry's neck. Phoenix song filled the air, making Albus sigh with contentment and Harry flinch violently. Albus couldn't see what was happening after this point, Fawkes had blocked his work from view, and it simply looked as if Fawkes had lost a grape in Harry's neck and was trying to use his beak to find it. Finally satisfied, Fawkes pulled back, beak dripping with Harry's blood and began dripping pearly white tears across the wound, trilling a sharp note before disappearing in a flash.

"Harry? Can you hear me?" Albus questioned.

Groan. "Clearly."

Helping Harry to his feet, worried eyes cast a hasty diagnosis. Apparently satisfied, Albus asked the next question burning on his tongue.

"Harry, could you tell me what happened?"

"I might be able to" Harry chirped.

There was silence for a few seconds before Albus realised Harry wasn't going to say any more, surprised that Harry was feeling playful after having his neck gashed open by an 'overgrown turkey' as he put it.

"Very well Harry, will you please tell me what Fawkes did to you?"

Green eyes twinkled back at Albus before his lips formed a smirk and he clearly shook his head no. Deciding to interrogate Harry later, Albus decided to check in with his old office.

"I am going to see if Minerva is here, would you like to come?"

"Of course – I'd never turn down an opportunity to visit your old office Albus. Those portraits all say such flattering things about you, don't you know?" Harry replied, slightly miffed that Albus would even consider leaving him here and planning on getting some blackmail material from the rather gossipy portraits.

"Yes Harry, I know very well what the portraits are like, now let's be off." With that, he strode down the hallway along the familiar route to the headmasters office.

Mumbling the password, 'Studious Success', Harry followed Albus up the staircase to the office door, waiting patiently as he knocked and asked if anyone was in. Hearing a few conversations, he simply opened the door and gestured Harry in. Harry and Albus walked into the empty room, and the portraits fell silent for a few seconds before greeting the two wizards.

"Ah, Minerva isn't here then?" Albus asked with the air of a puppy that just got his favourite bone taken away.

One of the portraits chuckled and replied,

"No Albus, Minerva claimed she had an urgent last minute meeting with a new muggleborn student after Trelawney character came in here determined to give our illustrious headmistress the first spin of a new crystal ball she acquired. Of course, she just said she would leave it here so I don't think she'll be getting out of it that easily this time."

Harry glared at the thought of more crystal balls or tea leaves. Past experience with divination had left much to be desired, and he doubted he would ever be fond of such 'magic'. Looking around, he eyed Albus talking with two portraits near the fireplace. Most of the devices, gadgets and gizmos that Albus had as Headmaster were gone – who knew what they were anyway – replaced with old tombs and stacks of paperwork.

A glint of light caught his eye, and he turned to a shelf near the edge of the room, with a rather large crystal ball lay. Wandering over to it, he absently placed his hands on the orb while looking at the grounds through the window. He turned back to the ball to see it filling with white fog and before he could even move his hand, he blacked out.

He gained his bearings as some of the light returned. Memories began filtering through his mind, brief flashes at first. Swirls of colour, sight, sounds, smells. Blurring forms, animals running around inside a large room. The memories came faster, his first broomstick. He remembered the tag, 'To Harry, from Santa', and proudly showing his two foot broom to his smiling parents. Hospital, babies. Eliza and Ashley, sisters. Uncle Sirius, Uncle Remus. Grandparents, owls, tutors, homework. Pranks and study. Playing with younger sisters, playing quidditch in the manor garden. Shopping, food, arguments. July 31st, 1991. He remembered everything – of a life he had never lived.


	2. Awakening and new Beginnings

A soft groan reverberated throughout the room, as Harry Potter began to stir. Bleary eyes opened, curiously taking in the cluttered room; covered with broomsticks of varying sizes, a poster of Mark Genlay (the Seeker for the British National Team), a pile of muggle school books and a few empty chocolate frog boxes. Rubbing his temples in an attempt to soothe his aching head, Harry began rebuilding his occlumency shields.

It wasn't Harry's fault that he struggled to learn occlumency when he was 15. In fact, he couldn't even properly maintain his shield until Voldemort was finally killed – a little less than two years ago. Although, being an angst-ridden, 15 year old hormonally charged orphan probably helped as much as having Snape as a teacher. Slowly, Harry's shields built up to a passable level, and his headache from the merging of combined memories of over 40 years began to fade. He stretched, pushing the covers off his hippogriff feathered mattress, grabbed a few clothes and a robe and headed into the hallway. Stumbling into the bathroom, he looked at his reflection, cursing the Dursleys once again for stunting his growth.

He was a taller and slightly more tanned 11 year old, with the same unruly black hair and bright green eyes. Perhaps the most noticeable change was the lack of scar and glasses. He supposed eating properly had something to do with his eyesight, and rummaging through his memories he pitied Neville Longbottom's unfortunate situation.

Jumping into the shower, he thought back to what happened and how to go from there. Harry knew the most important thing would be to make sure no-one – not even his family – ever found out about his history. The consequences would be horrible. That got him thinking to what happened to the 'Harry Potter' of this dimension. Given he had all of the memories, and a much more optimistic personality Harry assumed the two souls had merged together – although the personality change might have been from Fawkes experiment.

Harry knew he was stuck – even if he could find and make the crystal ball behave in the same way that it got him here, he was now Harry Potter of both dimensions, and all that it entailed. A surge of protectiveness swept through him, and he was determined to make the most of the situation he now found himself in. He would save those he could. He would protect his family, and he would certainly have fun causing shaking up the wizarding community.

He jumped out of the shower, putting on his plain black robe and padded downstairs to the kitchen, hoping he hadn't woken his sisters so early in the morning. Sitting in the kitchen warming his hands with a mug of tea Harry mused over some of his more recent memories he was sure that today a family trip was planned for Diagon Alley. He chuckled when he reviewed his memories of waiting for his letter to arrive, practically bouncing around the house checking the windows every few minutes.

Today though, was the start of his new life. It seemed that Lord Voldemort was slightly less insane and more paranoid and hadn't attacked quite so many people. It would explain why his family were still alive – even the senior Potters. Lord Voldemort was still called 'you-know-who' and still one of the most feared wizards in history, but he had chosen Neville to mark. Several house elves were killed protecting Neville, ironically while his parents were 'discussing' the problems with Voldemort at an Order Meeting. A quick retelling by a witnessing portrait and Neville became the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Unfortunately, Harry recalled a memory of a Ministry Ball, it seemed Neville had also an arrogant snob who was at the top of the world without a clue of how he got there.

"Harry?" A sleepy voice questioned from the doorway.

The brief yelp made the taller replica of Harry smile before Harry turned towards his father.

"Morning Dad! I didn't mean to wake you up but I was just so excited about getting my wand today!" Harry knew, of course, that a wand was just a wand. He briefly wondered whether he would be chosen by his old phoenix core wand before deciding he didn't really care – although it was probably better if he didn't. Still, it was a known fact that Harry did not like getting up in the mornings, as his sisters could attest to so he had to present a reasonable excuse.

Nodding in agreement, James stumbled over to the sink and made himself a cup of coffee, mumbling something about sleeping draughts and ear plugs while Harry began cooking some toast.

"Do you know what you want to get today in the alley Harry? Your mother and I both thought it would be nice if you had an owl of your own so you can write to us – especially your sisters." James queried between bites of toast.

The opportunity to meet and own Hedwig again threw Harry for a loop, fondly remembering his most faithful companion before almost jumping for joy at the thought she could be alive here.

"I wouldn't mind an owl Dad, and I promise I'll write to you guys while I'm gone." Despite the many times he may have flown into glass windows, Harry Potter was not an idiot. He knew his sisters would be devastated if he ignored them throughout the year, and his mother would be furious. Shaking his head clear of thoughts of what they might do if he didn't write often enough – perhaps explain their displeasure via Howler - Harry briefly wondered if the Potters were related to the Weasleys when Eliza and Ashley ran into the kitchen, undoubtedly having smelt the toast cooking and deciding food was more important than sleep.

By the time the Potters were ready to leave, it was already past 11am. Harry was the last to leave the floo network, his parents had each taken one of his sisters with them. Unfortunately, it seemed that floo travel was just as awkward and embarrassing as it always has been. Harry scrambled to his feet before anyone he knew saw him, while brushing soot of him and hiding behind his father – who was talking to Tom the barkeep.

"Well Harry – where would you like to go first? We have to stop off at Gringotts first, and no – you can't go to Zonko's James." Lily said, adding the last part with a sharp glare at James as he opened his mouth.

"I think we should look at pets first Mum, that way if I buy an owl I can send it home so we don't have to carry it anywhere." Lily hummed in agreement, and they set off towards the towering marble building.

They moved passed the gilded door and across the hall to a free teller, who looked like he would rather swallow hot coals than offer any helpful assistance, and his father asked to be taken down to the vault. A snort was the only reply before the goblin screeched out a familiar name, and Griphook scurried over to escort the family down.

"Hi Griphook, my names Harry." Harry said, maintaining an expression of curious naivety while holding out his hand to shake. Ignoring the odd looks from his parents, Harry put his arm down when he saw the goblin snarl at him, beckoning his family to follow him down to the vaults. Clearly, Harry thought, his supervisors must have told him to be excruciatingly polite (for a Goblin) when he first visited in his old dimension to score favour with the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. He wouldn't give up though; he knew any information from inside Gringotts would be worth gold, so to speak.

The vault door opened with a hiss, and Harry was pleasantly surprised to see that the family fortune was several times larger than he was used to, and several artefacts and paintings hanging off the side of the vault. Given that it was already rather late in the day, Harry didn't get much of a chance to explore before his parents dragged him back to the cart and they once again set off to the surface, Lily with a decidedly green tinge. They exited the bank after a curt 'Good Day' from the goblin before heading for the Owl Emporium.

"Hey Harry, look at this one! It's so cute!" Harry turned to see Ashley pointing out a young grey chick, about the size of his snidget form, asleep with its head folded underneath its' wing. Admittedly, it was cute. He doubted there would be another owl like Hedwig though, so he kept looking while his younger sisters cooed and awed over the baby chicks.

Twenty minutes later, Harry was happy. A brilliant snowy owl resting on his shoulder, amber eyes alert and feathers preened. The shopkeeper was happy to make a sale, five galleons for the snowy owl, cage, accessories and six months supply of food and owl treats. Harry thought Hedwig was being spoilt when his sisters demanded he buy nothing the best for her, especially given her satisfying hoot and proud stance.

"James, I think we need to split up so we're not here all day. I'll take Harry to get his books for this year, and you can take the girls for ice cream." Lily bribed, trusting James would look after the excited girls- or the girls look after the excited James. She wasn't sure sometimes. As expected, James didn't really have a chance to protest as two bouncing girls dragged him off down the alley, skipping delightedly at the thought of ice cream.

"Now Harry, do you have your booklist?" Harry nodded in reply, as Lily stopped patting her cloak pockets.

"Good, let's go then." As the two of them moved towards the bookstore, Hedwig flying above them, and spending a summer's day with his family, Harry couldn't help but think perhaps divination isn't such a bad thing after all.

Stacks of books filled the store, although fortunately none of them wear eating each other. Yet. Harry hoisted up a basket from near the door as he saw his mother quickly re-read the booklist.

"Hey Mum, could you grab the main books I'll need for this year while I find some extra study material to read? Nothing wrong with reading ahead, you know." Harry commented casually.

Lily smiled. "Oh, of course. I won't buy them until you show me what they are though. Don't forget Harry I was a bit of a bookworm when I was at Hogwarts – try to make a lot of friends and don't bury your head in books all year, okay?" Harry took that to mean he couldn't go off on some crusade and buy all uber-rare super powered books that would give him special powers to smite his enemies with. Instead, he settled for 'A beginners guide to self focus' (Atus Magney), 'Codes and Guidelines of Duelling' (Dark Force Defence League) and 'Basic roots and commonalities of Latin' (Michelle Giovva). The last would be particularly helpful for first years...it's Wing-garrrrr-Ron, make the gar nice a long...

"Hm, according to this list, I've got everything else I need back at home Mum. All I need is my new wand, telescope and a pewter cauldron." Harry said, mentally praying that Snape wasn't as much of a bastard in this dimension, given that his mother was still alive.

After meeting up with his sisters and his father in the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, Harry packed with his new telescope and cauldron, the bloated group headed towards Ollivander's. Opening the door, the tinkling of a bell echoed throughout the shop. It wasn't long before the old man hobbled out to the front counter.

"Ah, the Potters. 10 inch Willow with Unicorn for you Mrs Potter, and ah – Auror Potter, you never got your wand from me did you?" Harry's face contorted in surprise as he heard that. Clearly there were more differences than he though.

"No Mr Ollivander, I was fortunate enough to be chosen by a family wand. Never saw the need to change it," James said, squirming uncomfortably at the look Lily spared him. James had actually 'borrowed' the wand to set up pranks from one of the trunks in the Potter vault when he was 10 years old.

"Humph. Let me get you measure up then young lad, which is your wand hand?" Mr Ollivander asked, his voice muffled as he stuck his head behind another stack of wands.

"Right, sir," twitching as the tape measure began measuring his eyebrow length.

Half an hour later, Eliza and Ashley were playing tic-tac-toe in the dust and his father was looking longingly at his watch every few minutes while his mother sat on a rickety chair reading his new copy of 'Hogwarts: a History'.

"Here, try this. 11 inches – phoenix feather core. Moderately flexible, good quality Holly."

Harry grabbed his old wand, only for the box of papers he was pointing at burst into flames. Before he could apologise, Mr Ollivander had already snatched it back, smothered the flames and picked up another few boxes. Fortunately, it only took another dozen wands before brilliant yellow and blue sparks flew around the shop. He saw his sisters watching curiously, and heard his father clapping saying 'excellent'. Whether that was just because he finally had a wand or not Harry didn't know.

"Ah, extremely short wand. 8 inches, mahogany with dragon tears as the core. Should be a good all 'round wand, perhaps not so much for ward-work though," said a satisfied Ollivander. "It'll be 6 galleons for the wand thank you, and you get a bottle of polish with that too."

Harry grasped his wand, and stashed it in his jeans pocket – confidant Mad-eye-Moody wouldn't jump out around the corner at him – and picked up the small jar of polish as his father paid for the wand, before heading out with his family to spend the rest of the afternoon wandering the alley, catching up on all of the latest news. Apparently his 'godfather' Sirius couldn't take the day off work, and Remus was still recovering from the recent full moon. Sirius bought a small flat in Hogsmeade and Remus inherited a small cottage near Dover– but both spend a lot of their free time at Potter Manor.

Of course, since James was an only child and the family don't talk about Lily's sister, Sirius and Remus became uncles to Harry and his sisters. James Potter was a senior auror – who was rarely involved in any field work. Sirius chose to become a hit-wizard to stay in the field, rather than a logistical position as a senior auror, while Remus struggled to find work without his lycanthropy being exposed. Remus was similar to the Weasleys, given their pride and extreme reluctance to accept charity. To repay the cost of wolfsbane, Remus would often tutor Harry and his sisters in basic muggle subjects when Lily didn't have time.


	3. Introductions and Sortings

August seemed to fly by as Harry adapted to his new life. Harry's uncles dropped by every weekend and for an occasional dinner, intending on making the most of the last few weeks before Harry left for Hogwarts. Harry's grandparents visited on occasion, but spent most of their time in their cottage in Ireland.

As a 'going-away' present, Remus had given him a wrist-holster crafted saying 'it would come in handy one day'. To Harry's endless amusement, James and Sirius had taken him aside supposedly to give him a prep talk about his behaviour only to hand over the marauders map and appropriate instructions. Harry pocketed the map, knowing it would be an invaluable asset and grateful he didn't have to persuade the Weasley twins to let him 'borrow' it.

As September 1st rolled around, Harry was filled with nervous excitement. He hadn't heard anything about a break-in in Gringotts, so unfortunately he was already beginning to doubt the reliability of his foreknowledge in his new situation. That didn't deter Harry though, who was at that very moment trying to unlatch his sisters from his arms so he could get on the train. He could see his father stashing his trunk in the luggage compartment, and a suspicious shine covering his mother's bright green eyes.

"I expect a long letter telling me everything that's going on at least once a week with Hedwig, understand young man?" Lily asked, trying to add an intimidating glare that didn't quite work as her lips wobbled. "And write to your sisters too, and don't forget to eat plenty of vegetables, and wash your hair at least once every few days, and don't get into any trouble, and don't you dare play any pranks Harry James Potter, and I don't want you hanging out with the 'wrong sort' Harry, and if you forgot anything, just owl us and we'll send it straight up, and don't forget you'll be coming home as soon as Christmas...

Harry listed to his mothers nervous ramblings with one ear as his Uncles each gave him a quick hug and told him to 'have fun' with a wink. Harry unlatched himself from his sisters, giving them a quick hug and a promise to write before his father walked back from stowing his trunk.

"Well Harry, we'll be you at Christmas and don't forget if you need anything we're just an owl away. Make lots of friends, I hope you're in Gryffindor like I was, and work hard." Harry nodded to his father to show he understood, before giving his mother one last hug. A last goodbye and Harry hopped on near the end of the train. A quick wave and Harry vanished from view. Stowing Hedwig's cage in a roof rack, Harry turned out the compartment window looking for his family as he gently stroked Hedwig's back, who lay contently on his lap. A cloud of red blocked his vision before realising it was the Weasleys who walked past the window. It was almost as if nothing had changed with them, Percy was prancing forward – prefects badge gleaming on his robe. Mrs Weasley was trying to tidy up Ron's ruffled robes and Ginny was clearly upset she would be left alone at home again. Harry sympathised, he knew what it was like to be trapped in a house with Mrs Weasley.

A blob of excited people formed near the entrance of the platform, and after a few bright flashes of light, Harry didn't have to think hard to work it out. Harry was surprisingly grateful he had led a sheltered life as the 'boy-who-lived', once he saw the reports scurry around trying to find an exciting story about Neville Longbottom finally 'taking up his place' in wizarding society as a student of Hogwarts. Turning back around, he spotted his family waving to him from the platform. He faintly heard the shouts of 'Bye Harry', from his sisters in tandem before he waved back. A whistle blew and Harry lost sight of the rest of his family in the sudden flood of rushed people.

Harry leaned back into the leather seats, mentally creating a 'to-do' checklist now that he was finally on his way to Hogwarts. He would befriend people from all four houses if he could, work quickly but not enough to draw unwarranted attention and set up connections for after Hogwarts. He'd somehow have to marginalize Malfoy, and also make sure he had a flawless 'Gryffindor Golden Boy' image – no matter how cliché it may seem. The hat said he'd do well in Slytherin, but there was no cunning in advertising that particular aspect. He'd be a serpent in lion's skin. Oh, and he had to make sure Voldemort didn't get his hands on an artefact that would grant him immorality.

His attention was drawn to his compartment door, as it was slid open, revealing two small girls looking into the apartment for some room. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, he remembered.

"Hi there, do you mind if we sit in here? All the other compartments seem to be full so far and we don't want to have to look for the entire trip." Susan questioned.

"Sure girls, make yourselves at home," Harry said, placing Hedwig on an arm rest, and rising to introduce himself.

"My name is Harry, Harry Potter."

"Susan Bones." Susan stated simply, promptly holding a hand out for him to shake. Harry's eyes swept to the other girl in the compartment, waiting for her to introduce herself.

"Hannah Abbott," was the timid reply. Harry was so surprised at her timidity; he almost forgot to shake her hand.

"Excited about going to Hogwarts then?" Harry asked, hoping to make at least two new friends on the train ride there.

"Oh yes, Hannah and I are both excited, we've been waiting for this for years. My families have been going to Hogwarts for as long as I can remember, actually." Susan replied, Hannah nodding in agreement beside her as the three settled down for the ride. An hour later, and the door slid open again to reveal the snack lady. Standing up, he noticed it barely bothered the two gossiping girls, he headed to the trolley. Returning a few minutes later, Harry threw a few chocolate frogs to Hannah, knowing her hobby of collecting chocolate frog cards, and opened a packet of Bettie Bott's Every Flavour Beans to share with Susan.

The train pulled into Hogsmeade station in the evening, The girls and Harry having spent most of the ride talking about what Hogwarts might be like (Harry had the clear advantage), and about their families. It seemed Mr and Mrs Bones were still alive, although not nearly as well known as Amelia Bones – who still remained Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Hannah's parents owned and managed a small herbology warehouse, supplying to two apothecaries, even growing part of their stock themselves. It would explain why Hannah was always handy with plants.

Harry nudged Hedwig awake, who flew off to the owlery after an affectionate nip on the ear, before heading out into the swelling mass of gibbering students. Harry saw Hagrid off the edge of the platform, lantern swinging perilously close to some of the shorter students heads, and began leading his two new friends over.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Hagrid yelled.

"C'mon, follow me you folk – any more of ye to come? No? Right then, follo me. Careful though, mind that ledge there!" Hagrid exclaimed, as he began leading the nervous first years down a steep, narrow dark path, lit only with a soft glow from the giants lamp.

"You'll be calling this place home for the better part of the next seven years, ya know. Just around this bend and you'll get your first look at it." The familiar 'oooh' and 'aaaah's brought a smile to his face, before joining the rest of the students heading towards a giant black lake.

"No more an four to a boat!" Hagrid instructed, as Harry helped Susan and Hannah get into a boat without getting their feet wet. Another boy joined them, although Harry couldn't recognise them in the darkness, before Hagrid set the boats in motion. The girls were quiet this trip, staring at the rather imposing sight of Hogwarts perched on the mountain on the other side of the lake. After a few minutes of sailing, they neared the cliff face. A brief warning from Hagrid, and the small wooden boats sailed under cliff through a small opening, gently beaching themselves on the edge of a small pebbled beach. Shielding his eyes as Hagrid's lantern swung in front of his face, Harry waited patiently for the last remaining boats to shore. The prospective students set off after a brief headcount from Hagrid (presumably to make sure the squid wasn't hungry) and crowded nervously as Hagrid knocked loudly on the castle door.

It was opened by Professor McGonagall, who looked as strict as ever, and shooed the children in to the entrance hall. The stone walls glowed with the reflection of flaming torches, with magnificent marble staircases leading off into the rest of the castle. Filch had been busy, clearly. The students followed Professor McGonagall across the stone floor, somewhat like Peter the Piper, into a small side chamber off the side of the hall. Harry could dimly hear the droning of hundreds of students gossiping about their holidays before Professor McGonagall began speaking.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The feast will begin shortly, after you have all been sorted into your new Houses. Your house will become your family. It will be your home away from home. You will eat with your house, you will sleep with your house and you will have lessons with your house. On that note, any rule breaking and you will lose points. House points will be awarded for good performance. You might have seen the coloured hour glasses outside the hall on the way in, that is the main tally for House Points. Each colour represents your house, Gryffindor red, Hufflepuff yellow, Ravenclaw blue and Slytherin is green. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup – a great honour I assure you – so I do hope you are a credit to your house."

"Your sorting will begin in a few minutes, in the Great Hall. I will return shortly, in the mean time wait quietly." Professor McGonagall finished, sweeping her eyes over two boys at the back of the room who had already started talking.

A few conversations started up, most in hushed whispers. Harry assumed they were wondering how they would be sorted. Unfortunately, he somehow ended up near Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy, who were by all appearances trying to kill each other with glares. It became clear what they were fighting about after Ron Weasley decided to add his opinion.

"Of *course* Gryffindor is the best house – Dumbledore HIMSELF was a Gryffindor. My family have been proud Gryffindor for generations. Of course you're a Malfoy – I've heard about you from my father. Slimey Slytherins the lot of you." He said, backing up Neville Longbottom.

Harry had a good look at Neville, as if to confirm it was him (the easiest way to tell was the branding on his forehead, Harry thought) just before Neville began speaking.

"'The Longbottoms will have another Gryffindor today Malfoy, we've also been Gryffindors for generations. It *is* the best house you know." Neville stated pompously, as if that was the end of the matter. The confrontation had already drawn in other curious students, and Harry knew this was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

"So both you Longbottom and Weasley both think Gryffindor is the best house, and want to be there because all of your family have been there for generations?" Harry asked, voice echoing throughout the small chamber. "And you must be Draco Malfoy – I believe you think the same about Slytherin, don't you?"

A few brief nods were all the response he had before casually adding, "To be honest, all that faith, unwavering loyalty and all that sounds a like a text-book definition of Hufflepuff house to me. Perhaps you'll find that more suitable." Harry stepped back into the crowd and out of sight, muffling his laughter as he saw the absolutely horrified expressions of Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, and the confused face of Neville. He doubted any would actually make it into Hufflepuff, knowing one sentence wasn't going to break a lifetime's prejudice, but it would be amusing to watch them squirm.

Professor McGonagall walked back into the room, taking in the spluttering students before she unrolled a scroll of parchment.

"Form a line, alphabetically, yes that it's, now follow me." Harry slotted in near the back, before confidently following the line of first years. For once, Draco Malfoy managed to control his emotions had simply wore a blank face. Neville was strutting near the front of the line, making Harry almost wish he'd thrown a wandless tripping hex his way. Harry looked around the Great Hall curiously, eyes roaming across the student body, the few ghosts floating around the tables and the enchanted ceiling. Scanning the head table, Harry noted the same staff teaching – although for some reason Professor Quirrell wasn't wearing a turban – with Albus Dumbledore sitting with twinkling sky blue eyes in the centre of the table. Harry patiently waited as Professor McGonagall put the dusty old sorting hat on the stool, droning out its song.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, unrolling the roll of parchment and said,

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah." Harry gave his newest friend an encouraging pat, pushing her toward the stool. The hat fell over her eyes, and after a moment's pause - it yelled 'Hufflepuff'. Well, there wasn't really any surprise there. The right hand table clapped, welcoming their newest member before Professor McGonagall called the next name – ironically Susan Bones.

"Hufflepuff!" The hat shouted again, after flopping down covering most of Susan's face. Harry politely clapped too, as Susan ran off to sit next to Hannah – a relieved expression covering her face. This sorting went much the same as the first – Terry Boot went to Ravenclaw, Millicent Bulstrode Slytherin, and Lavender Brown Gryffindor. Just as he remembered, Hermione practically ran to the stool when her name was called – 'Gryffindor' echoing the hall as the far left table clapped.

'Longbottom, Neville' was finally called, and Harry watched as he sauntered up to the stool. The hat sat on his head for well over 30 seconds before calling Gryffindor, and Harry simply chuckled when Neville turned back to glare at him before sitting down at the Gryffindor table, who were screaming themselves hoarse over the fact they got the 'Boy-who-lived'. Morag MacDougal became the Ravenclaws newest member, with a decidedly pleased look.

"Malfoy, Draco" Professor McGonagall called. Two faint blotches of pink appeared on Draco's cheeks when the hat was on his head, whether from anger or embarrassment Harry didn't know, before the hat yelled "Slytherin" and Draco swaggered off to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle. After the Patils, Nott, Parkinson and a few others Harry never really got to know, 'Potter, Harry' was finally called.

Harry walked confidently to the stool, and setting the hat gingerly on his head. Before the hat could say anything, Harry pushed emotions and attributes of brashness, bravery and boldness outside his occlumency shields. The sorting hat was only on his head for a second or two before it yelled 'Gryffindor', and Harry walked over to a spare seat at the Gryffindor table, unfortunately near Percy Weasley – but lucky enough near his old friend Seamus Finnigan.

"Weasley, Ronald." Came the call. Harry watched as the nervous redhead approached the stool, and was finally sorted into Gryffindor.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as Blaise Zabini joined Slytherin.

Harry longingly took in the empty gold plate in front of him when Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet. He was beaming at the students – Harry thought someone might have case a cheering charm at him – with his arms opened wide in greeting.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! I hope you all enjoy our welcome back – or just welcome – banquet! Thank you." He sat back down. There was polite applause while Harry stared at Dumbledore. Perhaps he wasn't as - odd - as the Dumbledore he knew.

"What did you mean by 'excellent' when Ronald was sorting into Gryffindor Percy?" Harry asked curiously, after Percy made introductions to the other Gryffindor prefects.

Percy gave Harry an odd look before replied,

"I simply congratulated Ronald that he managed to make it into Gryffindor, it was excellent that he joined the rest of the family here."

"So," Harry replied, plastering a fake look of confusion on his face, "you're saying that you'd have been disappointed if he wasn't Gryffindor, but you're happy because Gryffindor is the best house?"

Percy nodded with a slightly wary look on his face, as Harry continued.

"I thought this school, and Headmaster Dumbledore himself was trying to promote inter-house unity and equality, but you're a prefect after all – maybe I should just ask Headmaster Dumbledore about it later." Harry said smoothly, before turning around to introduce himself properly to Seamus.

Percy sat with a slightly panicked look on his face as he contemplated what might happen to his chances of head boy. Harry simply smirked.

Harry joined Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas in conversation throughout dinner, Seamus spending most of the meal trying to explain how Quidditch worked to a football fanatical Dean between mouthfuls of chicken.

"That looks delicious," Nearly Headless Nick said sadly, leaning over Harry's shoulder at the feast in front of them.

Harry turned to Nick, about to talk to him when Dean asked, "Can't you -?"

"No." said the ghost simply, "not that I need to, but one does miss it. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. I am the resident ghost for Gryffindor tower, so I suspect you will be seeing a lot of me in the future."

"Nice to meet you Sir Nicholas, my name is Harry Potter." Harry said politely, hoping Ron wouldn't open his mouth and insult him.

"Are you the Gryffindor ghost? My dad said something about each house having a main ghost", he continued.

"Indeed I am, young mister Potter. I have been here for well over 300 years, and undoubtedly for many more years to come." Sir Nicholas said solemnly.

"So," Harry began "if we have any trouble would you be able to help us out? This castle is an awfully big place, I'm not sure how we'll find our way around for the first few weeks!"

"I would be honoured to help you, Mr Potter." Sir Nicholas said. "In fact, many of the ghosts around the castle will help you – you need just ask. A word of caution though, beware of Peeves – the castle Poltergeist is a trouble maker, I do hope you'll stay out of his way. You should probably avoid the Slytherin ghost, 'the Bloody Baron' too."

Harry nodded in agreement, before turning back to his meal, and grimaced as Ron the human vacuum put away several desert dishes by himself. Harry delicately worked his way through a slice of treacle tart, while he had an ear turned to the new direction conversations were taking around him.

"I'm a muggle born; I think that's the term isn't it? Yes a muggle born. I was ever so excited when my letter arrived, I mean magic – it was all so fascinating." Hermione blabbed, enthusiasm bleeding off her in droves. Harry thought he'd have to curb that behaviour before she ended up isolated again. Thankfully, Seamus interrupted.

"I'm half and half," Seamus said. "My dad's a muggle – Mum gave him an awful shock after they got married I hear." Dean Thomas simply said he was also muggleborn.

"I'm 'technically' a fullblood," Harry said thoughtfully. "Not a pureblood, my mother is a muggleborn, you see, and my father comes from a long line of purebloods." Not that being a fullblood, halfblood, pureblood or muggleborn really mattered to Harry. It was helpful to know who knew what about the wizarding world though, and he'd keep an eye on Dean and Hermione who were completely new to the wizarding world.

As the last of the desert plates disappeared, Harry turned to the high table. Professor Quirrell was talking to the astronomy teacher, Professor Sinistra and Harry could quite clearly see Voldemort wasn't sticking out the back of his head. Dumbledore stood up again, and silence spread quickly around the hall.

"Now that everyone is fed and watered, I have just a few quick notices before you can go to bed." Dumbledore said, ignoring or simply not hearing the groans echoing around the hall. "Students should note that the forbidden forest is aptly named for a reason – students are not allowed in the forest. I have also been asked by our caretaker, Mr Filch," here Dumbledore gestured to the back of a hall where Filch was hunched over, cat purring in his arms "to remind you to check up on the list of banned items and that no magic is to be used in the corridors."

"Madam Hooche – our flying instructor – will be organising quidditch tryouts in the next week or two. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact her, but take note first years aren't allowed their own broomsticks."

"Finally," Dumbledore continued, "I must inform all students that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is completely out of bounds for all students. Any student who enters against my strictest instructions could face a very painful gruesome death." There were no laughs this time around. Harry frowned, mind furiously trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle in his mind.

"Now, most of you are probably all very tired so I'll say good night! First year students, your prefects will lead you to your house common rooms and dormitories." With that, Dumbledore sat back down and the students began heading to the Great Hall doors.

"First years! Over here Gryffindor first years, line up please so you don't get lost. First years, anymore first years?" Percy was clearly in his element. The sleepy first years followed Percy through corridors, up moving marble staircases, through tapestries and sliding wall panels. Harry thought it might be a good idea to make a basic map to help his friends find their way around. Finally, they arrived in front of the fat lady. Harry remembered asking her once what her name was in sixth year, only for her to blush and stutter out an embarrassed 'Elizabeth' – she hadn't been asked that for decades, it seemed.

"Password?" Elizabeth queried, taking in the students she had never seen before.

"Caput Draconis." Percy replied, telling the first years to remember that but not to write it down, as the portrait swung out to reveal the familiar setting of the Gryffindor common room. The first years were shown their dormitories, where their trunks had already arrived. Closing the burgundy curtains of his bed, Harry pulled out his new wand setting it on his bedside table. Rummaging around in his trunk for a few minutes, Harry listened to the rustling sounds of his new class mates getting ready for bed before he found his copy of Hogwarts: A History. Lighting his wand, Harry spent a few hours as the rest of his class mates fell asleep reading on the major changes that had occurred at Hogwarts.

Perhaps the most disturbing was the complete lack of any reference of the chamber of secrets –myth or otherwise. There were no reports of attacks 50 years ago, yet Hagrid had still been expelled for harbouring a dangerous animal. After midnight, Harry finally closed his book and settled down for the night, knowing that drinking a jug of coffee at breakfast the following day probably wouldn't be a great first impression.


	4. Classes Begin

Harry awoke on the morning of September 2nd to the sound of the soft snoring of his new dorm mates. He rolled out of his four poster bed, and headed off to the shower, hoping it would help wake him up for the first day of classes. Half an hour later, Harry walked down into the common room, mop of hair still dripping where he saw Hermione sitting primly in front of the dying embers, flipping through a book and biting her lip.

"Good morning Hermione!" Harry explained cheerfully, trying hard to not to laugh at the fact that Hermione was already nearly half way through the book, transfiguration, by the look of it.

Hermione looked up, startled, and began unsurely;

"Hello. I was up early and didn't know the way to the great hall so I just decided to go through one of my textbooks. It is just so unfair, I'm going to be so behind compared to most people here, I bet I'll never catch up to everyone else who's grown up in a magical home.".

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Harry said soothingly "they start of right at the beginning, most of us don't get to learn magic before Hogwarts too you know." It was true. Even families like the Malfoy's tended to shy away from actual wand magic until at least after the basics first year. That's not to say it was fair – after all many had tutors in potions, magical beasts, basic magical theories and even Latin to help the basic spells.

"I hope so." Hermione muttered. "Do you know the way to the Great Hall? I want to get some breakfast and I've heard we get our timetables too!"

"Well I don't know if I can remember the exact way – but I'm sure it can't be that hard to find." Hermione didn't look reassured, so Harry continued.

"Look, I'm sure if we get stuck the ghosts might help us out – or the paintings even. Sir Nicholas did say they would be willing to help."

Hermione, resigned to her fate simply agreed. Ten minutes later saw the two quietly eating breakfast with Hermione trying to take a proper look around the Great Hall in the daylight, and Harry who was curiously watching the hall fill up slowly with drowsy students. Nearly finished his breakfast, Harry wondered if he should have perhaps woken up one of his dorm mates when he saw Professor McGonagall wander down from the staff table – stack of parchment in hand.

"It seems your new class mates will miss their breakfast this morning if they don't turn up soon," Professor McGonagall said with a pinched face, "here are your timetables Miss Granger, and you Mr Potter. I will leave the others timetables with Percy Weasley; I must go and prepare for class. Tell your friends not to be late in the future."

Breakfast was drawing to a close by the time Neville, Ron, Dean and Seamus had arrived – none looked like they had benefitted from a shower or hairbrush – and chose to scavenge what was left of the breakfast platters before mumbling 'hello's' to the rest of the table. Curiously enough, there was very little staring or whispering about Neville Longbottom. Harry assumed it was simply because he'd been in the spotlight so long, there was less mystery. Percy handed the four their timetables after a five minute lecture on the importance of punctuality and consequences of being late. Unfortunately, Harry's peaceful morning, it seemed, was not to last.

"Why didn't you wake any of us up?" Neville demanded, sufficiently fed but distinctly ruffled.

"I was awake well over an hour ago," Harry said, "I didn't think you would want to get up that early, did you?"

After negative replies and Ron's desperate shake of the head (he had an entire scone in his mouth), Harry brushed off the glares, and simply turned away.

"I'll be right back Hermione," Harry began, standing up. Harry walked down the table to find Sir Nicholas after a group of third years had just left.

"Excuse me, Sir Nicholas."

"Ah, Mr Potter – Harry wasn't it? So many students pass through here, you see." Sir Nicholas began, looking curiously at Harry.

"Yes Sir, its Harry. I was just wondering, I've got transfiguration with Professor McGonagall this morning but I don't really know the way. Could you give me some directions to the transfiguration room?" Harry asked, double checking under his lessons for Thursday. He didn't want to have to explain his knowledge of the castle, nor did he want to expose the Marauders Map.

The directions Harry had from Sir Nicholas pointed the same way as in his old dimension, so Harry bid the ghost goodbye and headed back to pick up Hermione. He walked past his other dorm mates along the way

"...banned, but now the Chudley Cannons actually have some good prospects on the field!!" Ron said hotly.

"The Cannons have been at the bottom of the league for over 20 years Ron; I don't even know how they get sponsors anymore." Neville replied, looking at Ron as if he had been hit by a stray Confundus Charm.

Seamus had been busy while Harry was getting directions, it seemed. Hermione and Dean were trying to follow his rambling explanation of the quidditch league, without getting hit by Seamus's rather enthusiastic gesturing.

"Excuse me," Harry interrupted "but we really need to get to class. You ready Hermione?" A short nod. "Well, you and Dean look like you are ready to go now anyway, would you like to come too?"

"Sure, I think Neville and Ron are still eating though." They were.

"That's okay; they'll be fine I'm sure." Harry said dismissively. "Sir Nicholas gave me directions to McGonagall's room, it's on the second level. "

The group entered the classroom, Hermione practically dragging Harry to the front desk. Dean and Seamus sat near them, deciding sitting with people they knew was worth the front row, and filled it up. As the class filled up, Harry saw a tabby cat run from the side office door, and leap onto the desk, gazing at the chatting students curiously.

Harry stood up, and cooed at the cat.

"Isn't it cute, Hermione?" Harry asked, who had by now begun to scratch the purring cat behind the ears.

"You must be Professor McGonagall's cat," he continued, stroking the cat from head to tail across her back. Picking up the now stunned cat, Harry carried her over to Hermione while still petting her ears to distract Professor McGonagall. As Hermione and Harry continued to pat the purring cat, more students filled into the room, looking around curiously for their teacher. Harry saw Lavender and Parvarti share a table, and jumped as the bell rang. He wasn't the only one; Professor McGonagall sprang up like she'd been thrown in a pool, fur standing on end. Before Harry could try and continue patting the teacher, she'd already jumped down and dived for the office door.

"Poor thing must have been terrified by the bell." Harry said sadly, making sure his voice carried from the front bench into the side office.

A few seconds later, Professor McGonagall office, straightening her robes and fixing a few loose strands of hair. She was distinctly avoiding looking at the front row, and Harry was considering petrifying himself to prevent himself from bursting into laughter.

"Ahem," Professor McGonagall began, "welcome to your first class of transfiguration students. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall. I will be your transfiguration teacher for the next seven years. I am also deputy Headmaster, and the head of Gryffindor house."

Before she could continue, Neville and Ron stumbled into the room, looking distinctly horrified seeing the rest of the class there and that Professor McGonagall had already begun.

"Mr Longbottom and Mr Weasley, and for the rest of the class too, I will say this. I do not appreciate tardiness. Do not be late again, am I clear?" Personally, Harry thought a dragon would be a more suitable animagus form than a cat at this point in time. It almost seemed as if people could apparate in Hogwarts by how fast Neville and Ron sat in the spare seats.

"Transfiguration is an extremely complicated branch of magic. There are several major skills in transfiguration; conjuration, alteration and self transformation. Conjuration is simply creating an object with magic," she continued, an apple appearing on the teacher's desk in front of her after a swish of her wand, "alteration involves using your spells and magic to change objects into other objects – living or non-living." Another swish of the wand, and the apple morphed into a banana.

"Self transformation covers other topics too. Many glamour and disguise spells originate from transfiguration. Some wizards and witches can also," McGonagall continued, voice cracking after thinking about her earlier planned demonstration, "can also transform into an animal at will. These are called animagus's, and involve years of research and hard work."

"We will be starting at the easiest and most basic level, and will work up to more complex transfiguration as the year progresses. This area of magic is incredibly useful because it can be used in a diverse range of ways, including duelling. Are there any questions before we begin then?"

"No Professor McGonagall" the class chorused, clearly looking forward to performing their first pieces of magic. Their hopes were quickly dashed as Professor McGonagall walked up to the board with a brief 'take out your quills'.

What followed was perhaps the most boring lecture Harry had ever had the misfortune of sitting through, only compounded by the fact that he had to pretend to be paying attention. Finally, a small container of matchsticks was passed around and the practical side of the lesson began. Harry watched as Hermione's face creased in concentration, and was remarkably surprised when her matchstick began to turn silvery after only a few prods of her wand.

Deciding to come out of the first day with a good impression from the teachers, Harry's followed shortly after. The first step Harry did was changing his matchstick silver to match Hermione's.

A few minutes later and two perfect silver pins lay in front of the two students, Hermione practically beaming in pride and Harry wondering if he would still get an animagus demonstration. Decidedly bored as Hermione changed her pin back to a matchstick to try again, Harry flipped open his timetable and looked closely at the Gryffindor emblem. Harry used the steps written on the board to slowly change the end of the pin into a small head to explain, a small griffin with hollow eyes. His pin might be much shorter now, but at least it looked cooler. Fortunately, Hermione understood how he could change it using the basic steps written on the board without looking into it more detailed.

"Mr Potter, Ms Granger how is your work progressing over here?" Professor McGonagall enquired.

"Excellent Professor!" Hermione exclaimed, "I've been practicing changing the matchstick to a needle and back again and it doesn't take nearly as long now."

"Well done Ms Granger. Five points to Gryffindor." The voice echoed across the room. Harry blocked Neville from Hermione's view as he saw him glare at her. Personally, Harry thought it was amusing – when Professor McGonagall asked to see his transformation his matchstick simply caught fire.

"And you Mr Potter? Do you need help transfiguring your matchstick?" Came the question.

"No Professor, I've already completed mine." Harry replied, holding his needle up to help McGonagall look at it, conveniently hiding the head. Harry supposed Professor McGonagall had braced herself for a reincarnation of James Potter and Sirius Black at school. It would explain why she looked so suspicious before asking to see the pin.

"Oh my word, what a marvellous job!" Professor McGonagall said, as she held the pin up to her eye for close inspection. "Very well, another five points to Gryffindor." Before she could say anything else, Professor McGonagall abruptly turned around and headed to the back of the classroom as a faint odour of smoke permeated throughout the room.

It was nearing the end of the lesson when Profess McGonagall addressed the class again.

"Alright class, pay attention please. I want a foot of parchment on the problems you faced in today's lesson – and how you can plan to overcome them to be handed to me on Friday. Mr Potter, Ms Granger, and Mr Nott you are excused from this task, given that you successfully completed today's class. Perhaps if your friends struggle you might find time to help them instead." Professor McGonagall said, eyeing Lavender and Parvarti.

"I'm sure by now you've gained a basic understanding of what transfiguration is. Perhaps one day you might aim to become an animagus – one of the toughest transfiguration challenges. Now, the bell will ring in a few minutes, so are there any questions before I dismiss you for the day?"

"I have a question," Malfoy drawled "I've heard you are meant to be one of the best in transfiguration. Have you managed to complete the animagus training? After all, Father will be interested to know if teachers try and teach students things even they can't do."

"As a matter of fact I do Mr Malfoy. In fact, Mr Malfoy, why don't you write up two more feet on the Ministry regulations for animagus, and include some research into list of currently registered wizards and witches." Professor McGonagall retorted icily. It was not an offer, and Malfoy knew it too. Harry thought he couldn't get much dumber – antagonising not just a teacher, but deputy headmaster and Head of House too on the first day.

"Now," She said, pulling out a sheaf of parchment from one of her draws, "you have your first charms lesson with Professor Flitwick. He's on the east corridor of the third level; he'll be waiting outside so you can't miss him." The bell rang, and the class began filing out. Near the door, Harry turned around.

"By the way Professor, I saw your cat in here earlier. Is he magical? I heard some people have half kneazles and you can't always tell." Harry said, relying on his occlumency to stop himself from laughing.

Professor McGonagall looked up from her desk looking as if she'd swallowed one of Dumbledore's lemon drops before she shooed him out of the room with a brief 'you could say that.'.

Harry caught up to Hermione in the hallway, and the two found seats together in charms. Surprisingly, he saw Neville try and find a seat nearer to the front before Ron dragged him to a row at the back, dumping his book bag loudly.

"Good morning class!" Profess Flitwick began excitedly, "today will be your first lesson in charms!".

"Now we've only got a one hour class today, so we'll go through the roll first, then I'll introduce myself and we'll go through a bit of the basics of charms and what they mean for you at Hogwarts." He said.

"Alright then, here's what we'll do. I'll introduce myself, and then I'll get each of you to stand up and say your name, house and a sentence about yourself. Breaks the ice, you know. Ahem. I'm Professor Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw House and charms professor – as you probably already know. I have a mastery in charms, and back in the old days I was also a master dueller, so don't let my size fool you!" Professor Flitwick said, climbing back onto a pile of books he'd previously fallen off of.

It was certainly more interesting than the first half of transfiguration, but that's not saying much. Half an hour later, Professor Flitwick climbed back up on his pile of books.

"Alright then, let's get begin." He started, "charms include a variety of different types of spells. Hexes, jinxes, enchantments and basic, well 'charms' all form up the charms branch of magic. Hexes are classed as 'charms' because you are causing something to interact with your magic to produce an effect. For example, if I were to cast a cannonball hex, the product is a fast moving ball of iron that can be rather damaging.

It's a charm, because to get it to work you need to have your magic do several things for it to work. If you weren't using a charm – the cannonball hex – to get the same result would need different work. For example, you would need to conjure or transfigure a ball of iron, then work out your aim. Finally you would need to banish it at your target. They are much more complicated and hardly effective if you're planning on using hexes to your advantage in duels and the like. Hexes can be modified by altering the arithmetic of the spell at its most basic level." Fortunately, Professor Flitwick didn't see the need to demonstrate that particular hex in a class full of first years.

"Jinxes are spells used against another person, to disable, disadvantage or cause a specific affect against another person. For example, there is a jinx that would tie the shoelaces of two shoes together while someone wasn't paying attention. If you're going to be working in the ministry – particularly law enforcement – you'll need to know another important jinx. It's called the anti-apparition jinx, and will prevent your target apparating for up to an hour. Well, successfully. Jinxes don't have to be cast, they can be imbued in objects and artefacts too, but you'll learn about them in your Defence classes later on." Harry doubted that very much, but wisely kept silent.

"Enchantments involve applying spells to an object to make it act in a particular way. I'll go for a simple example this time – broomsticks! There are an awful lot of enchantments that go into those, including safety enchantments, comfort and movement enchantments. This particular branch of magic is also closely related to creating and maintaining wards, where the object is a wardstone or foundation."

"Finally, there are many spells out there that can be called 'charms'. This are simply spells relating to charming a target without fitting into one of the other categories." Professor Flitwick finished, taking what Harry could have sworn was his first breath since he began talking.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin first years headed to the Great Hall for lunch after the bell rang, where Harry practically dragged Hermione away from the rest of his year mates and over to Susan and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table.

"Good afternoon ladies," Harry said, taking a bite out of the apple in front of him. "Susan, Hannah, this is Hermione. Hermione, Susan Hannah." They shyly introduced themselves to each other, as Harry pulled out his timetable again, only to groan as he saw defence and potions on the afternoon roster.

"Don't worry Harry; we've already had Professor Quirrell this morning. It's not so bad. Well, it's not as bad as History of Magic – the two hour class we had this morning." Susan said with a grimace. Harry simply hummed ambiguously, before he made a mental note to bring a pillow or some history books of his own when he went to History.

It turned out Susan was right. Professor Quirrell stuttered, bumbled around and seemed to be scared of his own shadow, but the notes on the board were legible, and the text book was interesting enough. Friday followed much the same way, although Professor Snape seemed determined to pretend Harry didn't exist. Period. It was more than he was hoping for, especially when he managed to curb Neville's ego – at least while he was in potions.

As Friday night approached, Harry was glad for the weekend. It seemed his two day week had already taken its toll on him. Perhaps it was because he had the physiology of an 11 year old again. Harry thought it more likely it was because he had to try and curb Hermione's 'know-it-all-ism' without offending her. It was hard to do, when he had to run interference with year mates as well as teachers. Harry hoped there wouldn't be an incident like the first Halloween he'd had with Hermione. He also met up with Susan and Hannah when he could, although it was hard to do on weekdays especially given that he couldn't sit at the Hufflepuff every meal, and wasn't supposed to know where the Hufflepuff common room was.


	5. Lessons hard learned

_Hi __Mum and Dad!__ everyone!_

_Well, I've got a bit of spare time before any of my friends are awake this morning so I thought I'd write to you guys to see how you're doing. I got sorted into Gryffindor, although you probably already guessed that! I've met some really cool people so far, there's this muggleborn girl called Hermione who's awful smart but can be a bit bossy. I met Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott on the train – they're both Hufflepuffs (Hermione's a Gryffindor like me). I think you work with Susan's Aunt, she mentioned something about the Ministry. _

_How are Eliza and Ashley? Well, you can give them this letter to show that I asked anyway. Hey girls, you two keeping Uncle Sirius out of trouble? You can write back with a different owl – I'm sure Hedwig wouldn't mind you two looking after her for a while. _

_We've had two days lessons so far, they're alright so far but I think I like charms the best. Professor McGonagall seems a bit too strict – so I'm awful surprised she's a cat lover. I think the defence professor is a bit silly – he keeps stuttering and mumbling so it can be hard to hear him sometimes. I've had potions with Professor Snape already; he wasn't very happy and took a lot of points of Gryffindor when Neville Longbottom kept talking in his lesson the other day, but seemed to ignore me just fine._

_I hope I can get onto the quidditch team – the tryouts are in a week or two. I read the school rules, it just says first years aren't allowed their own brooms, so I'm just going to borrow someone else's for the tryouts! I can't wait for our flying lessons._

_Not much else has happened – so far. Will write again soon,_

_Harry._

Harry rolled up the letter after letting it dry for a few minutes before heading out to the owlery. Hedwig glided down from her feast (a rather large mouse that could have passed for Filch's cat), landing on Harry's shoulder with a thump.

"Hello girl," Harry said softly, stoking her neck in her favourite spots, "could you fly this back home for me? I'm sure they'll have some treats for you. You can stay there for a while too, I'm sure the girls would spoil you rotten." An affirmative hoot was all the warning he got before Hedwig launched herself out one of the windows, meal forgotten.

Harry was only a hallway away from the owlery when he came across Fred and George quietly heading up the stairs.

"Hello there," Harry called out, amused by how high the twins could jump. Clearly, they weren't quite as accomplished at pranks as Harry remembered, given how long it took for them to wipe their faces of the guilty expressions they were wearing. "up to something?"

"Ah look George, an ickle firsty thinks he got the best of the grand Weasley Twins." Fred said, or at least Harry assumed it was Fred.

"Indeed brother o' mine, he seems to find something funny. That's odd, you know Fred because I don't think we'd pulled any pranks. Yet." George said, smirking slightly as he saw Harry involuntarily take a step back. Dragons? Pshaw. Voldemort? Pshaw. Basilisks? Pshaw. Throw an emotional woman at him or the threat of Fred and George's pranks and the results aren't pretty. The problem was Harry could easily dodge their attempts but that would only make them try harder until he was looking over his shoulder every minute and conjuring his own food.

"Oh no no, nothing's funny. Just remembering a joke is all." Harry said, mollifying the pride of the twins. "What are you two up to this morning anyway?" He asked, genuinely curious as to what they were up to now.

"Well," Fred said, "we seem to have unfortunately run out of schooling supplies and need to restock ourselves for the year, you see."

Harry peered suspiciously at Fred before asking,

"How can you possibly run out of things you need for school this early in the year?" Unless they were attempting to recreate something like the marauders map on their own, their ink and parchment should have lasted at least until the first Hogsmeade weekend.

"Fred didn't say anything about things we need for school ickle firsty, just things we need in school." George said, making Harry scowl at the repeated jab.

"My name's Harry," he said "Harry Potter." Harry held his hand out to shake, wishing nothing more than he had a muggle shock buzzer with him at the moment. Thinking about it for a second longer, he held out his left hand too. Fred and George obviously picked up on it, and shook his hands at the same time.

"Pleased" Fred began, "to meet you." George finished.

"You didn't exactly answer my question you know," Harry said.

Fred and George looked at each other before Fred stepped forward and said,

"Very well young Harry. Our mother isn't very fond of our hobby you see, so we have to stock up on pranks from the Zonko's in Hogsmeade. We owed Peeves a casket of dungbombs for something he helped us out last year too, so we are completely dry at the moment."

"Oh, well in that case oh noble gentlemen, don't let me stop you." With that, Harry stepped aside with a flourish. "I do hope we'll get to know each other better in the future. You can't let a good pranking opportunity go to waste after all."

It wasn't until he saw the portrait of the fat lady guarding the Gryffindor common room that he remembered he should have asked Fred or George if he could borrow their broom for the quidditch tryout.

Harry entered the maroon room to be greeted by Hermione and Dean.

"Hello Harry," Hermione and Dean answered in chorus.

"Erh, erm? Good morning you two. What are you up to?" Harry asked.

"Oh, Seamus was just grabbing a shower and we were going to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I know you've already had yours but would you like to come with us?" It was still surprising how someone like Hermione could be rather timid in social situations, Harry mused, as he watched Hermione fidget nervously at his stare.

"Actually I just wrote a letter home and went up to the owlery to send it off. I met some third years up there too, Weasleys, so I haven't had breakfast yet. I'm sorry, I should have asked if you guys had any mail you wanted me to send off too but none of you were awake." Harry mumbled guiltily.

Before they could answer Seamus came down the stairs. The shower clearly hadn't woken him up much.

"Mornin' Hazzy." Seamus mumbled. Rolling their eyes at Seamus, they set off for breakfast.

"Hey Harry, what do you think was nicked from Gringotts?" Seamus asked, after two cups of coffee. (There's no age limit on coffee, you just want more for yourself – was the comment on a prefect who said it would stunt his growth).

"What?!"

"Don't be silly Seamus; Harry doesn't get the Daily Prophet." Hermione snapped in a scolding tone.

"Sorry Harry, Seamus was talking about an article in the Daily Prophet, second page actually. Apparently the goblins are furious that a wizard –or witch I suppose- broke into one of their most protected vaults. Of course they're saying nothing was stolen, but that's rubbish. Who would make try to rob an empty vault? Anyway, here's the article." A rustled copy of the Daily Prophet was shoved into his hands.

GRINGOTTS THEFT!

Details are slowly being leaked from confirmed sources that one of the premium security vaults (guarded by dragons, rotating wards, anti theft charms and armed guards) was successfully broken into 10 days ago. Gringotts official statement is that nothing was removed from the premises. They are also maintaining that this was a onetime occurrence and abnormality, although a Goblin review board will be investigating Gringotts security measures. It was a transparent statement in response to the recent proposed bills by the Wizengamot that would bypass the 1807 treaty and cede a portion of control of Gringotts – and by proxy – its finances to the Ministry.

It is doubtful that any such bills will be passed in the upcoming Wizengamot discussions, as Gringotts have already stated:

'Any such actions deliberately and maliciously taken by the Ministry of Magic of the Realm of Briton to bypass, waver or ignore the treaties upheld since 1807 will be subject to scrutiny throughout all Gringotts offices.'

What does that mean? It means they will pass directly through to the International Confederation of Wizards, undoubtedly the bill overturned and possible retaliatory sanctions in order to satisfy goblin justice. Let us hope the Ministry makes no rash decisions, and does not overstep its legal capacity.

Close advisor to Minister Fudge, Lucius Malfoy produced a statement yesterday regarding the Gringotts Break In.

"No matter what the circumstances may be surrounding this issue, unfortunately the Ministry has no legal standing in their attempt to help restore market confidence. While I would surely feel more comfortable than relying on goblins – whose reliability can only be guessed at – and whose honesty may be in question regarding what was stolen, the idea that the very Ministry responsible for upholding codes, laws and traditions' hundreds of years old would so easily bend or break sworn oaths and treaties is preposterous."

Harry simply stopped reading with a snort at that. Malfoy had managed to insult the Ministry and the goblins at the same time while promoting his pureblood agenda. Fortunately for Malfoy, the goblins were under oaths to protect his assets – no matter their form. Gringotts wouldn't 'officially' be hanging out his dirty laundry any time soon.

Seeing that Hermione was just finishing off breakfast and was undoubtedly considering making a break for the library, Harry made a suggestion.

"Hey Hermione, why don't we visit Hagrid out on the grounds this morning? I think my parents knew him when they were at school, and he seems nice enough." No matter what the Ministry or public might think of Hagrid Harry always had a soft spot in his heart for him. One of his first few friends and one of his law few too.

It didn't long for Harry to persuade Hermione, Susan and Hannah to accompany him.

Knock knock. Knock knock.

"Mr Hagrid? Hello?" Harry yelled, peering through the window at an excited Fang.

"'ello you lot, what you doing down here now?" Hagrids rumbling voice echoing across the grounds as he walked out of the forest, crossbow across his shoulder.

"Oh hello Mr Hagrid," Hermione said awkwardly. "We just happened to be in the area and thought we'd say hello."

"Ah, it's just Hagrid. Rubeus Hagrid, to be honest. Everyone calls me Hagrid though." Hagrid rambled, a shade of pink colouring his face.

"Well, I think my parents knew you Hagrid." Harry piped up, "so I thought I'd say hello and introduce my friends to you." Hermione looked even more embarrassed at the subtle jab at her rudeness.

"This is Hermione Granger, from Kent. Her parents are muggle healers I think she said." Harry said, pointing out Hermione while congratulating himself on sounding like an idiotic pureblood.

"And that is Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot. They're both Hufflepuffs but they're not bad!" Harry joked.

"Nice to meat you Hagrid," Hannah said, before nudging her friend in the side.

"Sorry," was the distracted reply. Susan was too busy looking at the giant crossbow that looked more like a ballista to pay much attention.

"Ahem, yes, I'm Susan Bones. Hannah and I met Harry on the train, and we had nothing else today but hang around the grounds anyway."

"Oh, well come on in then. I'll put a cup of tea on and you can have a few rock cakes I've got lying around." Harry winced, before replying to the dangerous offer hurriedly.

"That's okay Hagrid – just the tea will be fine. Just had breakfast and all that, and we like to stay healthy."

It wasn't long before Hagrid was telling them about his favourite creatures or stories about Hogwarts. When Susan seemed to be getting too interesting in some of the rather more vicious monsters, no, 'beautiful creatures' Hagrid had encountered Harry dragged the girls of with a quick retreat. Harry was pleased with the mornings work though. He'd managed to stop Hermione building a camp in the library, spend time with Hannah and Susan and got a foot in the door with Hagrid and the Weasley twins.

The rest of the weekend was spent completing what little homework was set, and exploring the castle to help find their way around. They ran into a few of the ghosts (thankfully not Peeves) and managed to successfully avoid the third floor corridor, a nice change Harry thought. Harry also added a few things on his 'to do' list. He'd have to corner a house elf and 'ask' them where the kitchens and come and go room were, and 'find' the other common room entrances. Dobby wasn't the only free elf working at Hogwarts. There were over a dozen at any one time, between owners or simply because they enjoyed the benefits of such a magic rich workplace, Harry wasn't sure.

Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom thankfully hadn't done much other than laze around the common room and study hall over the weekend. They even want as far as to avoid Malfoy and his goons when they attempted to make trouble. Harry thought it was odd, but was glad Gryffindor wasn't losing any points of pointless fights with Malfoy of all people.

Harry received a letter from his family with Amine – the family owl – at breakfast on Monday.

_Dear Harry,_

_We're all happy that you got into Gryffindor, but to be honest we didn't really think you'd go anywhere else. Your father says don't get into trouble – sorry Harry, your mother was taking things out of context, I said don't get caught and get into trouble – stop that James. Anyway Harry, your sisters have been really sad since you've left, I'll let them write hello to you later. I even tried taking them to a muggle themepark to cheer them up, but your letter helped more than the park. _

_I hope you're learning lots and making lots of new friends – I wouldn't mind meeting them over the Christmas holidays if you want. They are coming up soon, you know. _

_I'm glad you're having fun honey, hope you're learning lots already. I don't think they'll let you play on the quidditch team though – they have rules for a reason young man. They don't want you to be hurt. Why not just wait until next year to try out?_

_Anyway, I think the girls are going to keep your owl here for a few days by the look of things, so if you need anything you can just borrow a school owl to write to us. _

_Everyone sends their love Harry, bye for now!_

"What's that?" Neville asked, trying to read the letter over Harry's shoulder.

"Oh, you didn't know? It's a letter Longbottom."

"I know that!" Neville snapped. "I meant who's it from?"

"It's a letter from my family – and no you can't read it so stop trying." Harry said while folding the letter up and putting it in his jeans pocket.

"You've only been here two days," he sneered, "home sick are you?"

"Nooo," Harry drawled, "I have two little sisters who I was trying to cheer up. So mind your own business pipsqueak." With that, Harry turned around to talk to Seamus in clear dismissal Neville. Watching from the corner of his eye as Neville stomped off to where Ron was contemplating licking his plate clean; Harry wondered if there genuinely was a problem with inbreeding in the magical community.

It was after the final lesson of the day (Herbology) on the way back up to the castle when Draco Malfoy decided to stir up trouble.

"Longbottom you are a complete idiot – everyone knows not to touch the stem without gloves on." Draco drawled, eyeing Neville's rapidly swelling hand and watery eyes.

"Shut up Malfoy, it was a mistake that's all." Ron piped up in defence of his friend.

"Why should I Weasley? I bet there were a lot of people expecting more from the precious 'Boy Who Lived'. I wonder what they'll say when they find out he's so incapable? Honestly, you're pathetic, hardly better than a squib. You too Weasley, although that should go without saying." Malfoy finished with a flourish, smug expression as he saw Ron help Neville away from him and towards the hospital wing.

"Malfoy." Harry said flatly.

"Yes Potter?"

"You're an idiot. I do believe it was your own father who claimed he was unable to break free of you-know-who's imperious. You just said that a blubbering blundering idiot who is closer to a squib than a wizard not only beat one of the most powerful wizards of the age as a toddler, but destroyed him. Not saying much for your Father who couldn't even break himself free of a spell now is it?" Harry said, amused by the fact that Malfoy's own insults could be turned against himself so thoroughly.

"In fact," Harry continued, "everything I've seen so far it seems to be that you're following in your father's footsteps. I mean, you can't even go anywhere without your hired help there," here Harry gestured to Crabbe and Goyle, "and to be honest you're not exactly a prodigy either."

"Shut up Potter!" Malfoy snapped faint blotches of pink appearing on his cheeks. "You've got no idea what you're talking about. I could take you own my own anytime – tonight – at midnight then. A wizard's duel, in the trophy room. Not like a filthy halfblood like you could best me." He finished haughtily.

Seeing Hermione about to but in to rattle of a list of all the rules that would break, Harry stepped in quickly.

"Very well Malfoy, I accept. Who will your second be? Don't worry – I won't need a second so it'll just be me." Harry said, knowing it would be impossible to persuade Hermione to agree to this.

"Crabbe will do. Your arrogance will be your downfall Potter, midnight. Tonight. Trophy room." With that, Malfoy gestured to Crabbe and Goyle and the three walked off to the castle laughing.

"Harry Potter!" Hermione was building up steam, "Do you know how many rules you would be breaking? Out after curfew, magic in corridors, duelling! If you try and go out tonight I will go to Professor McGonagall and she'll stop yo-"

"Hermione! Stop. I've got no intention of going out at midnight tonight," he would have everything done before curfew; "I know Malfoy doesn't either. So just relax, I won't be going into any honour duels any time soon."

It mollified her pride somewhat, but didn't seem to ease her suspicion. Harry had no doubt she would try and wait in the common room until after midnight to make sure he wasn't going to lose Gryffindor any points.

Harry spotted the twins playing exploding snap with Lee Jordan in the common room after dinner and casually walked over to them.

"Hello Harry," they chorused, "this is our friend Lee." Indicating the soot covered third year student.

"Hi Lee," was all Harry said before turning his attention back to the twins.

"You know I've got myself into a bit of a pickle, you see. Unfortunately, I don't have any Zonko's supplies with me and I need them by tonight."

"Now Harry, I'm afraid we can't help you out if you don't know what to do with them. Besides, then we'd have to order more, you see?" George said, clearly trying to weasel his way out of this one.

"Don't worry guys, it won't trace back to you. I'll pay for all the gear and throw in a bit extra as a thank you too." Harry bribed.

"Well, I don't know how someone needs 'urgent' pranking supplies but what the hell, we'll help you out. Won't we Fred?"

"Wait – weren't you George? No never mind...." Harry mumbled.

The twins smirked but didn't answer.

"Now Harry, what supplies would you need for your up and coming debut prank?"

"Erm, a case of dungbombs, spell resistant paint – in your brightest colours -, goo drops and a fly trap."

Half an hour later and Harry left the common room, saying he was going to visit other friends of his to mollify Hermione and met up with Fred and George a hallway away, each carrying a small crate under their arms. Another half an hour later and Harry was finished setting up his first Hogwarts prank. The dungbombs were spread out evenly, paint canisters reading to brighten up the night life of Hogwarts and unopened goo drops hanging from the ceiling. He left the fly trap on the floor before heading to the dungeons.

He pulled out his invisibility cloak, and snuck into the common room someone who looked suspiciously like Marcus Flint headed out. Creeping along the edge of the common room, Harry slowly made his way into the dormitory area before he found the one marked 'First year Dorms'. Padding his way quietly in, once he saw they were empty he threw a quick locking charm at the door and headed over to the beds. It didn't take long before he found Malfoy's bed. Clearly the most expensive trunk in the room, adorned with the Malfoy emblem and Slytherin colours. To his endless amusement, there were no locking features on the trunk – not even a basic muggle key. They must have thought no-one would dare steal from a Malfoy.

Opening the trunk, he found Malfoy's wand (he'd left it there after he went for a shower, knowing he wouldn't need it again that night) and pocketed it quickly conjuring a crude replica. A few quick spells later (that no first year should know) and an enchanted note lay across his trunk, hidden by notice-me-not charms and a timer.

Harry took a quick detour on the way back to his common room, gave Fred and George a quick wink and nod before heading back over to Hermione. Harry went to bed at 10ish, waking Hermione up (she'd fallen asleep in the common room near the fire) and sending her up to bed too.

It was approaching midnight when Malfoy awoke to something swatting at his face. Opening his eyes and turning his bedside lamp on, he saw a piece of parchment hovering in front of him. Scowling, he opened it.

_Dear Draco,_

_I'm sure you're wondering who would bother to write to you like this, especially at a time like now. Well, I'm not going to say. Now, my dear, I think you should be more careful who you annoy while at Hogwarts. Perhaps you should lay low and keep your head down. _

_This is just a courtesy note, you see. I know you've told Mr Filch anonymously that someone was trying to vandalise the trophy room at midnight, my dear. _

_I believe the time now is something like a quarter to midnight. If you hurry, you'll get there before Filch comes. If not, I'm sure he'll be interested in looking at whose wand was left at the scene tomorrow at breakfast._

_Have a good night, my dear._

With that, the letter simply dissolved into oblivion. It wouldn't do for Harry to leave any trace evidence now would it?

Draco opened his trunk, frantically looking for his wand, only to find a novelty pencil over a foot long in its place. Theodore Nott could have sworn he heard a dog yelp in his dorm that night, before deciding it was probably part of his odd dreams.

Draco practically flew up the corridors, trying to reach the second floor before midnight, bare feet stinging on the cold stone floor. He heard the bells chiming in the distance and knew it was midnight as he skidded into the trophy room to see the perfectly polished trophies gleam in the torchlight. He saw his wand lying innocently in the middle of the floor and made a dash for it thankful he reached it before Filch came.

He picked the wand up; carefully running his fingers over it to make sure it was indeed, his wand. He turned to leave. Or he tried to, only to fall over with a thump. He looked at his feet in horror as he saw a dull brown sheet of paper with a giant Z watermarked across it, recognising it as the Zonko's emblem. He scrambled trying to peel his feet off the trap, as the minutes ticked by. He sighed in relief as the trap finally released him and dissolved away, only to watch in horror as dozens of dungbombs exploded from inside trophies, splattering the entire interior of the display cases and covering the other trophies. Three paint canisters also exploded, showering the display room in a thick splatter of green, pink and yellow paint before a layer of goo nearly half a foot wide dropped from the ceiling across the floor – and Malfoy in the process.

Filch had heard the commotion nearby, his cat leading the chase only to find Draco Malfoy standing in the middle of the trophy room, wand out and in hand, looking at Filch's gleaming eyes, shocked, furious but mostly scared of the retribution.

"You!!" Filch cried, inadvertently adding to the trophy room's dilemma with a thin film of spit. As Filch got a good look at the trophy room and the damage done Malfoy could practically feel the rage, indignation and horror of what had happened.

Malfoy quickly jumped to his defence with a traditional 'I didn't do it.'. It didn't work.

"How DARE you! I was lucky enough to get a tip about some miscreants coming to vandalise the trophy room tonight but it seems I was too slow to stop them. No matter, YOU will be cleaning this up, with THREE months detention pretty boy." It was a pity for Filch Malfoy's father was on the board of governors and he knew he wouldn't get him expelled. It was a pity for Malfoy Filch was a mean bastard.

"50 points from Slytherin for being out after curfew, using magic in the corridors, vandalising school property, lying to me and for being in possession of forbidden items – I recognise most of this as Zonko's products." Filch snapped furiously.

Before Malfoy could try to defend himself again he paled when he realised already what would happen to him once Slytherin lost so many points only a few days into term.

"If I had the power to expel you boy, I would have already snapped your wand. You'll be lucky if you House doesn't do that to you anyway, after losing 250 points in a single night." He said gleefully.

"What? You can't take 250 points you're not even a wiz-a teacher! You said 50 points anyway" Malfoy cried, forgetting to even try to prove his innocence in his shock.

"What I wouldn't give for some hard punishment nowadays. It was 50 points EACH idiot boy" Filch muttered, furious that someone already knew he was a squib. "You!" He cried, pointing a shaking Malfoy, before grabbing his arm and dragging him down to the dungeons. "We'll be going to see your Head of House now, boy. I'll explain to him what happened and when you'll be cleaning up this mess you made. I will be supervising your detentions too boy." He added with a ferocious glare, as Mrs Norris hissed too. It was common knowledge among the faculty that Professor Snape was Malfoy's godfather, and Filch had no intentions of going easy on him.

Harry awoke the next morning, refreshed and rather cheerful. Harry was walking to the Great Hall with Hermione behind Dean and Seamus when he heard them gasp and stop. A few students crowded around the giant hourglasses whispering furiously with each other. When he saw Slytherin had lost 250 points he smirked in grim satisfaction, making sure to wipe his expression clean before they entered the hall.

As they sat down for breakfast, he looked over at the Slytherin table to see Malfoy; distanced from Crabbe and Goyle – even Parkinson – slouched over eating quietly and trying to hide himself behind his book bag. Harry could see the glares heading at Malfoy, particularly from the older students, for practically ensuring Slytherin wouldn't win the house cup for the first time in eight years. He looked up a the teachers table to see them gossiping just as much as the students, although Snape looked as if he would like nothing better than to start throwing out unforgivable like Dumbledore and his candy. Malfoy wouldn't even begin to regain his position in Slytherin for months at least.


	6. Seeking Seeker

The rumours were thick and fast that morning, only compounded by the Slytherins own reaction to Draco Malfoy. Harry had no idea how it became public knowledge that Malfoy had been caught having vandalised the trophy room, or the news spread so quickly. At least, until he remembered how much the portraits in the castle loved to gossip.

When Malfoy looked up and around – probably to check no-one had curses heading his way – and saw Harry sitting down at the breakfast table he glared until Harry simply lifted his orange juice in silent toast to him. There was no way he could be implicated in the prank unless Malfoy admitted that not only was he trying to trap Harry out of curfew, but also cowardly backed out of a wizards duel. Lucius Malfoy would *not* be happy that he backed out of a duel, and that a Gryffindor outplayed a proud Slytherin family, and even Draco, it seemed, knew it.

Hermione caught the gesture with a puzzled look before turning to Harry with an expression clearly asking 'what did you do?'.

"Is there a problem, Hermione?" Harry opted to ask, ensuring his voice held no guilt or shame.

"What did you do?!" She hissed in reply.

"What makes you think I had anything to do with Malfoy's – unfortunate – state?" Harry asked indignantly, hoping he didn't have a negative reputation already.

"So it's just a coincidence that Malfoy challenges you to a duel, at midnight in the trophy room last night and instead he just happened to get caught doing just that?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

Before he could reply, he was interrupted by Fred. Or George.

"Well done Harry!" Fred said excitedly, "not even a week in to school and you practically destroyed Malfoy's reputation, and put Slytherin so far behind it'll take months to make up! Not to mention the prank itself – I heard Filch had spent quite a while cleaning those over the holidays."

"Indeed," George added, "and you didn't seem to waste a prank either. Did you use all the gear you bought off us?" Harry thought it wasn't particularly smart to talk about it in the middle of the Great Hall but decided to humour them.

"I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about," Harry said, making sure his voice carried over to a nearby Hermione. Lowering his voice, he continued. "I did, but keep that to yourselves okay? Malfoy isn't going to be telling anyone what happened, he'll probably tell his father that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time but will deal with it on his own."

"Well you've made us proud. To pull that off without a single detention, not even a week into term." The twins whistled lowly, before standing and gallantly offering their empty seats to Susan and Hannah who had just wandered over.

"Hello ladies," Harry said, glad to be able to talk to them before classes began.

"How have your classes been so far?" Harry asked, genuinely curious if Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had such – active interaction as Gryffindors and Slytherins.

"They've been fine Harry. Although I might need your help with our transfiguration homework again, I just can't seem to get the hang of multiple transfigurations." Hannah said, scowling at the thought that already she was falling behind.

"I've had a bit of trouble with that too," Susan piped in, "would you mind if you helped Hannah and me?" It was a tribute to her character that Susan asked that, as Harry knew full well that she could already do multiple transfigurations – he'd seen her working on it over the weekend. Susan could already transfigure three matches into needles simultaneously, so it was clear to Harry she didn't want to offend Hannah.

"Sure," Harry said, reminding himself to form the D.A much earlier and keep it much lower profile earlier. He'd also have to rename it. In this dimension Dumbledore was struggling to keep the status quo, and he was too busy trying to stop the Ministry from tearing itself apart to micro-manage Hogwarts like he used too.

"So Harry," Hannah asked in a blatant change of topic, "have you heard the rumours about Draco Malfoy? 250 points in one night, maybe Hufflepuff has a chance at the cup this year!"

"Terrible that. Such a high profile student, already resulting to vandalism and pranks to stir up trouble and get attention..." Harry stopped as he was interrupted by Hermione's cough. Clearly, his innocent facade wasn't up to par.

"I heard from one of the older years that Mr Filch had to rope off the trophy room while it's getting cleaned." Susan added, "apparently the Ravenclaws could even smell it on the way down to breakfast this morning." Harry simply smirked but didn't say anything.

It was evening before the four met up again, dragging their book bags and unceremoniously dropping them on the benches in the study hall. They spent an hour or two finishing homework before Harry noticed a small pinup on the notice board.

QUIDDITCH HOUSE TEAM TRYOUTS:

Ravenclaw: Sat AM

Hufflepuff: SAT PM

Gryffindor: SUN AM

Slytherin: SUN PM

Bring spare robes, broom and quidditch pads.

"Harry you know first years aren't allowed to play quidditch," Hermione scolded gently, apparently a little softened by Harry's wistful expression and dreamy sigh at the thought of playing quidditch again.

"Of course we are Hermione. The school rules only say we can't own our own broomsticks. They want us to be responsible and buy the things we need. I've had a toy broomstick since I was two – I could practically fly before I ran you know so I'll be fine." Soothed Harry, remembering Hermione's reluctance to ever use a broomstick for anything other than sweeping. Fortunately, neither Susan or Hannah tried to persuade him otherwise.

It was Wednesday evening in the Great Hall, and Harry was eating dinner with Hermione, Susan and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table.

"Honestly," Harry complained, "why don't they give us anything other than pumpkin juice. Drinking so much can't be god for you."

"It's a traditional wizarding drink Harry," Hannah said, taking a sip of her own.

"How on earth can a type of juice for dinner be traditionally?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Well," Hannah said slowly, "no-one has changed it for a long time. That makes it a tradition." Harry was surprised by just how sarcastic an innocent 11 year old Hufflepuff girl with pig tails could be sometimes.

"Bah, give me coke any day." Harry mumbled back, only to cringe as he remember he was sitting next to Hermione who had been lectured by dentists all her life on her eating habits. Fortunately, it seemed Harry had already corrupted Hermione to the point where all he got for his comment was a frown instead of a health lecture.

"Hey Cedric," Harry called a few seats down, ruthlessly squashing his emotions to the bottom of his occlumency shields.

"Can I help you?" He asked, looking curiously at the non-Hufflepuff first year who asked for him by name.

Seeing the raised eyebrow, Harry answered the unasked question by saying 'Fred and George told me about you.'.

"Yes, well you see quidditch tryouts are this weekend. The rules say I'm not allowed to own my own broom, so I could try out if I had a decent broom. I'm going to try out for seeker and probably wouldn't have a chance on the school brooms. I was wondering if I could borrow yours on Sunday morning?" Harry asked quietly.

There was no answer for a few seconds as Cedric mulled it over, before agreeing. Of course it wasn't because Cedric was a nice all round guy, but Slytherins had won all of the quidditch cups for over 10 years. If having a stronger Gryffindor side pushed the Slytherins further down the rankings than it would be a worthy trade. If not, well Cedric probably thought the chances of Harry being any good were probably not that good so it wouldn't matter anyway.

As Cedric was dragged away by friends, Harry was left determined to regain his old quidditch spot. If nothing else, it would give his sisters and family an excuse to travel to Hogwarts to meet with him during games. The rest of the evening saw Harry, Hannah and Susan trying to persuade Hermione that the following days flying lesson wouldn't be bad or anything to worry about. It probably wasn't helping that they had astronomy at late that night too, and wouldn't be their best tomorrow.

"Everyone stand beside your broom, hold your wand hand over the broom and say UP." Madame Hooche commanded.

"Up." Harry said calmly, brooming snapping into his hand, his voice drowned out by the echo's of dozens of other 'ups' and disappointed groans. Susan's and Hannah's followed shortly after, and Harry supposed only by sheer determination not to be shown up that Hermione's followed after. A few minutes later, and Madame Hooche was correcting Ron's grip as Harry sat floating a foot in the air waiting for the lesson to begin.

"Come back here Mr Nott – you too Mr Longbottom. No don't do that!" She cried, grabbing the tail of a broom that seemed to have a temperament of its own.

As Madame Hooch guided the class through some basic flying manoeuvres, a few of the students were trying to show off their 'flying skills'. Neville, Ron and even Malfoy (who'd gained some confidence back with flying) were all trying to do tricks when Madame Hooche was looking the other way. Harry simply flew close to Hermione, making sure she was comfortable and learning how to fly at the same time. Nearing the end of the lesson, Harry was guiding Hermione around in fairly large figure eight loops, arm rapped securely around an excited Hermione's waist, when he overheard a rather amusing conversation.

"But Madame Hooch, I'm sure if you talked to my head of house Professor McGonagall and tell her I'm a capable flyer I'll be allowed to try out." Neville pleaded, as he had been for the last five minutes.

"No, Mr Longbottom." Came the sharp reply, tinged with weariness. "I can't simply go around over ruling decisions other teachers make, you'll just have to wait until next year." Harry doubted Neville would see a school game from anything other than the stands until at least 6th year, once Fred and George left.

The rest of the week had passed peacefully. Professor Snape ignored him (a large improvement), Neville was too busy trying to keep up with the piling up work to bother him and Malfoy was too busy trying to stop himself being lynched to bother him. Harry actually smuggled a small pillow from the common room into History of Magic on Friday afternoon – and became the envy of the rest of the class for it too.

It was Saturday evening when the Hufflepuff tryouts finished, and Cedric lent him his broom. Harry almost thought he was taking Cedrics baby out on a date with the way he carried on, but perhaps that's just because Harry was jealous he only had a cleansweep at home. As soon as Cedric was out of sight, Harry wrapped the Nimbus in his invisibility cloak and headed back for his common room.

As Sunday dawned, Harry simply grabbed an apple off his bedside table, waking himself up and getting his gear ready. A quick shower and Harry unwrapped Cedrics broom, before unlatching the dorm window and jumping out. Most of the school wouldn't be up yet, but he'd learnt from Fred and George that tryouts started when the sun came up.

Harry pulled the broom to a standstill behind Fred and George, the rest of the perspective's hardly capable of standing upright let alone paying attention, and whispered a quick good morning.

"Harry?" They asked incredulously, "what are you doing here?"

"I thought that would be obvious," Harry said, before plastering his innocent and confused mask on. "This is the Gryffindor tryouts, you know. If you don't know why you're here you probably aren't going to make the team, sorry."

"You know what we meant Harry, I don't know how you managed to sneak in a broom past McGonagall but firsties aren't allowed to play." Fred said regretfully.

"Well I know you guys lost your seeker last year, and are looking for a new one now. It can't hurt to try out now can it? Besides, the school rules only say first years aren't allowed their own brooms. There's nothing in there about trying out or playing for the House team – in fact this is Cedric Diggory's broom – he lent it to me. It'll be fine." Harry said dismissively.

Other potentials were now looking at him curiously, as Oliver Wood looked up from his stack of charts, diagrams and tables to look at what was happening. Surprisingly, he didn't have a problem with Harry trying out, as there were no guarantees of placement and he'd check with Professor McGonagall first anyway to sort out broom usage issues.

"All right you lot!" Oliver exclaimed far too cheerfully for most peoples taste, "up and at em. Lets start of with 15 laps around the pitch, and no slacking off either! That goes for you guys too," Oliver finished, looking at the current team members.

Harry didn't wait before shooting off around the pitch (making sure to go clockwise, the general rule). He let out a whoop as he pushed the broom to its limit on the straight, and did a few minor rolls and tricks to warm himself up. The other potentials didn't think much of Harry; they thought he'd be worn out before the tryouts anyway. Fortunately, seekers tend to have a less physical role in quidditch than other players (especially beaters).

As Fred and George caught up to him, Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the haphazard flying of the others, who clearly weren't up to their game yet. It wasn't long before the warm up ended and Oliver began the try outs. The Gryffindor team was only short a seeker, but Oliver clearly had dreams for the team after he'd left. He was looking at training a reserve team and reserve players already.

Harry sat out the other tryouts, saving himself for the seeker position. No-one else bothered, thinking they might as well try out for everything.

"Alright, everyone who still wants to try out for seeker can stay behind." Oliver said, not even short of breath. Before Fred and George could sneak off, Oliver spoke again.

"Fred, George wait a moment. We've got a lot of potential this year, but I want to make sure whoever we chose as starting seeker can handle it. That means we'll have two live bludgers – no, not just the Weasleys – thrown into the seeker trial." Well, that was a new touch.

"Here's how it will work. There are six of you wanting to try for seeker position. I'll choose one of you as starter, one as reserve. Fred, George and I will be in the air. I'll be watching your performance, and Fred and George will try to take you out with bludgers. The first round I'll be releasing five snitches.

Once you've caught a snitch, return it to me and take a breather. Then it'll be five people left, so we'll do a round with four snitches. We keep doing it until there are only two people left. Once we've done that, I'll release all five snitches again and it will be whoever catches more between the two of you. Is everyone okay with that?" After nods all around, they set off, spreading themselves along the northern edge of the pitch as Fred and George got the bludgers ready.

As soon as the whistle blew, Harry shot off faster than any of the others. Clearly, the break had done him some good. Slowly he began to circle near the top of the stadium, avoiding the path of the bludgers as much as possible. The other seekers were too busy avoiding the bludgers or other flyers to try and look for the snitch very much, and Fred and George showed no signs of tiring.

It took fifteen minutes before Harry spotted a glint of gold at the bottom of the goal post at the opposite end of the pitch. Harry streaked across the pitch, higher than any others and unfortunately drawing their attention before turning into a rolling dive. The others hadn't seen the snitch and were assuming he was feinting – a costly mistake. Harry flew up from the bottom of the goal post and floated over to Oliver, hand outstretched and wings gently flapping in his palm.

Harry might have loved flying and quidditch but when it came down to it, there was only so much his un-toned 11 year old body could take. By the time it was down to two (Harry and Alex Jenkins) Harry would have given anything for a pepper up potion or a few shots of firewhiskey.

"Alright then, clearly this little guy actually has some spunk!" Oliver said, clearly pleased at the quality of the last two flyers. "You know the rules, I'll release five snitches, and whoever catches the majority wins spot of starting seeker. Although if you do it Potter it'll have to be cleared with McGonagall first. Good luck you two, I'll also be timing it – for the record."

A quick handshake, a whistle blow and the two seekers shot off in two different directions. Clearly, Fred and George had been worn down by now; the bludgers had come closer to hitting Oliver than either seeker.

Two hours later and Harry was frustrated. As was Oliver. And Fred and George. The score was currently two all, and Harry was unimpressed. The only reason he didn't suspect Fred or George had nicked it was because they were still out on the field too, and had to keep playing until the snitch was found. Harry knew if the trials went past lunch, Oliver would have to choose Alex Jenkins to make room for the Slytherins (why take a chance on a firsty? Was the comment).

Harry had had enough. Harry made sure to fly closer to Jenkins and waited until the sun came out from behind a rather think cloud before making his play. Faced screwed up in surprise, Harry dived almost vertically, rolling to avoid a bludger – no, a Weasley – before checking back to see if Jenkins was keeping up. He was. Harry made sure he kept rolling, his cloak flapping around him hiding the area in front of him from Jenkins view. As the ground approached Harry barely had time to pray Oliver had activated the cushioning charms before sharply pulling out of the dive, with only a foot of air to space.

Alex wasn't so lucky. He wouldn't be ready to seek again before the break was over, at the very least.

"Merlins beard Potter! What the hell were you thinking, that was a professional level move – you could have killed yourself!" Oliver ranted. "Then Professor McGonagall would have killed me for- Potter, get back here Potter!"

Harry had flown off, toes practically scraping the ground toward the western stands. Harry disappeared behind the cloth coating covering the structure, only to reappear a few minutes later, fifth snitch in hand and smug grin on face.

Oliver's love of quidditch won out over fear of Professor McGonagall, as all he simply said in return for the snitch was, "welcome to the team Potter.". Surprisingly, Harry found out it was only Alex's stubbornness that he hadn't wanted to forfeit to an 11 year old that led to the three hour trial. Although now he could say he lost to an exceptionally skilled 11 year old who could play professional moves.

The tired group, deciding energy was more important than showers trudged up to the Great Hall for lunch, broomsticks over their shoulders.

"Ah Harry," Fred said, "well done" George finished. Whether it was congratulation on ending the hideous tryouts or making the team Harry wasn't sure.

"Harry, this is Katie Bell – one of the lovely chasers. Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet are the other chasers," George said, pointing out the other two players trudging up the hill.

Unfortunately, about all the energy Harry had was used up saying a brief hello to Katie and trying to block out Oliver's enthusiastic mutterings. Oliver was practically bouncing around the players, and Harry smothered his laughter as he saw Katie flick him of as he turned away from her.

There were a few head turns as the group trudged towards the Gryffindor table, although far more followed the Captain as he moved to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry?!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked. "You've been at the quidditch pitch all morning?"

"Yes, Hermione. I said I wanted to try out, remember?" Harry said, gently reminding Hermione that no – he wasn't – in fact joking.

As Harry began piling his plate with a mountain of food and dragging a platter of chicken closer to him, he didn't notice as Professor McGonagall made her way down the staff table with Oliver and stop behind him. He did notice Hermione had stopped talking, and was looking over his shoulder.

"Good afternoon Professor McGonagall!" Harry answered in a falsely cheerful voice.

"Mr Potter," came the frosty reply, "Mr Wood tells me you turned up for tryouts this morning – and that you won the position of starting seeker. I do not have to tell you how shocked I am that you would break rules in such an obvious fashion, I would like an explanation and a reason of why I should let you play." Ah, good ol' McGonagall, just waiting at a chance to grab the trophy back from Snape.

"Well Professor McGonagall, I'm not entirely sure what rules I've broken for a start," Harry said diplomatically.

"First years are not allowed their own brooms Mr Potter. It is on the welcome letter for admittance, it's written on the equipment list and we reminded first years they can't have their own brooms when term started."

"Ohhhh," said Harry, drawing it out and pretending he only just worked it out.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you professor, I just didn't think of it. This broom is actually Cedric Diggory's. He lent it to me so I could try out, after all there isn't a rule preventing it, I just wouldn't have much of a chance on a school broom." Cedric must have worked out what was going on, and had walked over (Susan and Hannah close behind).

Seeing that she had the attention of most of the students left in the Great Hall Professor McGonagall had a quick whispered conversation with Oliver Wood as Cedric got his broom back with a heartfelt thank you. Harry was brought out of his musings when he heard Professor McGonagall exclaim an excited "really?" before turning an appraising eye on Harry once more.

"Very well, Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall stated. "I will allow you to play as seeker for the Gryffindor team on a few conditions. Firstly, you must find or borrow a broom – even a school broom for practices if necessary – until next year. I can't just simply break the rules because I want my house to win the Quidditch cup. Secondly, I and your other teachers will be ensuring that your grades don't slip or waver. I expect your studies will be up to the same standard they have been for the past week, and I won't hesitate to pull you from the team if they do. Finally, Mr Potter, I expect to see the Quidditch Cup in my office at the end of the year – although from what Mr Wood tells me that is a likely probability."

Harry turned his laugh into a cough and choked out a thank you as Professor McGonagall walked away, ignoring the fact that she just practically psyched out the other teams with her confidence in an 11 year old.

As Susan and Hannah sat down, and Hermione looked at the retreated form of Professor McGonagall in some sort of shock, Harry finished off his lunch.

"I can't believe they would do this to me!" Neville exclaimed a few seats down. "I asked Madame Hooche if I could try out all week and every time I got the same response. Oh we can't bend the rules for you blah blah blah. How did you do it Potter? I should have had a chance to make seeker. If you can make it, then so can I and I have half a mind to demand the tryouts be held again including first years."

It was Oliver that came to Harry's defence.

"Look, Longbottom, Potter here looked up the rules. He organised to borrow a broom that could stand up in trials, and made sure he was ready at dawn this morning for the tryout. He was proactive and he's a damn good flyer. He even flew Jenkins into the ground with a Wronski Feint! That's a professional move. Even if you could do that, I'm not holding tryouts again this year. You are more than welcome to try out again next year, though." Said Oliver, who couldn't resist bragging about Gryffindors newest seeker.

Harry was the subject of much whispering for the rest of the day and only chuckled at the chagrined faces of other hopeful first years that wished they could have tried out. Neville glared mutinously at Harry whenever he walked into the room, vowing he would complain to his parents about the unfairness. Although that didn't stop Neville from trying to complain to anyone that would listen.


End file.
